Prelude to War
by Mcube
Summary: The age is 21st century BCE, the first intermediate kingdom of the early Egyptian empire. Intrigue and suspense seep through the royal court of Pharaoh Vegeta I. A writing challenge from the "We're just Saiyan" community based on the Ancient Egyptian era. This is a one-shot.


**The first intermediate period was a "dark age" in Egyptian history, so my artistic interpretation can be a bit freer. Critique is welcome, but remember I am **_**drawing**_** from history this is not claiming to be fact so don't flame based on that. I also picked this time because of the 21****st**** century correlation.**

***Khety II: historical Pharaoh of Lower Egypt at that time. Vegeta I is King Vegeta, Vegeta II is our beloved Saiyan prince.**

***The cartouche in the cover art reads "Vegeta Son of Ra" **

**Many thanks to my beta-goddess, Fletchi91!**

**I don't own Dragon Ball(Z) and I'm not making any money off this  
**

* * *

The god-king Vegeta I stormed into the throne room. He was in the twenty-third year of his rule over the Upper kingdom of Egypt. Having just come from a telling by the royal oracle, he wasn't pleased. Compounding his rage was the fact that his eldest son, heir to the throne of the Upper kingdom was nowhere to be found.

"Nappa" the pharaoh roared to his most trusted guard. "Where is that waste of flesh that the gods have punished me with?"

The giant soldier bowed on one knee before his master. "Your eminence, we have not been able to find the prince. I shall take full responsibility for my failure and request that my death be painless."

"You have not failed, fool; my son does not wish to be found. No doubt he is romping with whores on the outskirts of Thebes. I cannot wait any longer for him to be found." The pharaoh paced the room like the leopards Nappa captured for his courtyard pens. "Bring the architect-the old man Briefs"

"As you command."

The royal oracle saw many visions today; more than Vegeta had remembered her ever having before. From her crystal orb the old hag envisioned a war with the Phoenicians that would prove costly. The Phoenicians and their king had always been allies to the crown, reluctant, but not foolish enough to declare war. They relied on Egyptian protection to keep their trade routes safe. What disturbed him more was hearing the woman predict his early demise, and even more disheartening, the betrayal of someone close.

Lost in thought, Pharaoh Vegeta didn't notice the old architect, Briefs the Elder, shuffle into the throne room.

"You sent for me your eminence?"

"Old man, why is my tomb not yet completed? The reports that I am getting tell me that it's not even close to ready."

"Your worship, the area you have chosen is unstable. We have made the necessary adjustments to the substrate, but we _simply_ must move at a slower pace to ensure we won't experience total collapse. I explained this to your eminence when you first insisted on this location. My opinion as a scientist still stands. If you wish to have a pyramid monument like the Old Ones, then we must move no faster. The tomb _is_ much closer to completion than your reports would indicate".

Pharaoh respected the old man's brilliance. The Elder in turn knew that he was a valuable commodity. He had overseen the construction of Vegeta's father's tomb. It was grand and ensured the old ruler's quick passage into Duat. Vegeta couldn't help but be patient. The Pharaoh sighed. "Old Man, I trust only you with this confession; I fear that my time in this realm is short. This tomb must be completed soon. Has my son been managing the construction as I instructed him?"

The old man coughed. "Erm, yes your worship. Prince Vegeta has been working with my chief assistant. Mmm, yes, you could say diligently overseeing the project, yes."

* * *

In a small brightly lit workroom on the far side of the royal compound, two lithe bodies moved to a timeless rhythm. Quiet breaths and subtle moans flowed at a quickening pace until the sudden storm of ecstasy over took the two lovers. They both collapsed in a spent heap on top of the work table that had become their makeshift bed.

When she finally regained her senses, the woman scolded, "Why must you accost me when I am in the middle of calculations?"

Her partner sat up to allow the beautiful engineer to rise from the table and adjust her long linen tunic. "Don't even try to claim that I left you unsatisfied, woman." Vegeta was captivated by this woman. She was one of the most appealing females that resided on the palace grounds, but there were others more beautiful. Her brilliance and wit drew him to her; he found that there was something else that made him seek her out more and more of late.

The prince knew in a short time, his father would force him to take his first wife, and produce an heir. As far as Vegeta was concerned, _he_ had made his choice of wife; unfortunately, custom required that his wives be royalty, most likely one of his half-sisters.

Bulma finished readjusting her tunic and turned to face her beautiful prince. Her heart ached whenever she really studied him like this. She loved him, and when she finally allowed herself to accept that, her heart felt even heaver. Once the Pharaoh's tomb was completed, his time with her would be finished as well. Vegeta was forced to oversee the construction of the tomb as a punishment for not taking the responsibility for his duties. She wasn't a naive girl. Bulma knew that her prince was destined to rule the Upper kingdom and his wives could only be his equals as "gods on earth". The daughter of the royal architect would be forbidden, tainted and far from sacred.

"Let me finish these calculations, and then I shall look at the recent pain you have inflicted on _my_ chariot. By the gods, I don't know how you could have destroyed this one; I even incorporated more metals into its construction!"

Bulma began to gather the papyrus scrolls that had been tossed throughout the room during their lovemaking. "Why do you think your father wants to see daddy?"

"Probably to bitch at your father for his unreasonable demands not being met."

"You shouldn't provoke Pharaoh; he delights in making your life harder."

They both started at the light knock on the outer wall. A soft deep rich voice from outside floated into the lovers. "If you two are done, I think that a certain prince needs to get his ass to his father before the old fool sends out the infantry."

Vegeta recognized the voice as his longest and most trusted friend Piccolo. The Ethiopian prince was sent to the royal court as a child to learn from the most brilliant minds the world could offer.

"You may enter, brother, we are decent."

Piccolo entered the room with a grin. "I thought you were '_Just going to check on the woman's progress and demand she repair my chariot,'_" he mocked.

"Well, the woman bewitched me." He turned to Bulma with a devilish grin to which her eyes only rolled in response.

Piccolo leaned against the wall, amused at the site of his friend smitten with this beautiful woman. He might as well be the one to spoil their happiness before someone else did. "I was passing the palisade of the citadel, General Yamcha and his garrison has returned."

Bulma froze with momentary panic. Her intended had returned from a long campaign. She was sure she couldn't evade the truth about her and the prince for long. Yamcha would demand she cease her relationship with Vegeta…wouldn't he… could he? She looked to her lover for assurance, but her prince returned only a stone glare of royal indifference.

* * *

In the throne room, Pharaoh Vegeta was receiving a report from general Yamcha and his garrison. Yamcha had just returned from the western frontiers.

"Your worship, King Ahiram of Phoenicia has made it clear that he wants the perpetrator of this act brought to him. He is insisting that he has the right to execution."

"This is foolishness; the plebian doesn't even know who is guilty! …And who is this ambassador Krillin, why should it matter if he has been killed."

Briefs the Elder was still in the throne room during this exchange. He cleared his throat to catch Pharaoh's attention. "I seem to remember Queen Tyria having a brother named Krillin. He was a disciple of the Confucian scholars of the eastern Xia dynasty, a peaceful young warrior, brilliant young man."

"So the fool wants to declare war over his dead brother-in-law!" Pharaoh seethed.

"Eminence, there is evidence to the guilty party. A certain item was found with the body, clutched in the poor monk's hand." Yamcha held out a gold and lapis cartouche strung on a necklace of the finest snakeskin.

All eyes in the room focused on the charm, for they all knew what it said. The symbols spelled out title of the first son of Pharaoh, "**Vegeta, Son of Ra**."

A tense silence hung over the throne room. Old Briefs took the opportunity to slip out of the back of the room before the Pharaoh could erupt. His presence was needed elsewhere. Deftly making his way through back doors and unused hallways, he returned to his work rooms in short time.

The pale trepidation in his eyes worried the three people standing before him.

"Daddy, what happened!?" Bulma cried.

Turning toward the Prince, the old man addressed the boy that he had come to love as a son. "Boy, I will ask you once, and your answer will forever be truth to me, did you murder the ambassador of Phoenicia, Krillin?"

"That little bald monk…certainly not! He has done nothing worth my wrath let alone my time."

"You must leave the citadel at once; you have been framed for his murder."

"That's preposterous! I haven't left the royal grounds in months! I've either been serving my penance here, or driving chariots with Piccolo."

The old man looked thoughtful. "I can vouch for your time working with me overseeing this project, and your friend Piccolo here can verify your time together in the desert." The Elder shifted his gaze from his prince to his beloved daughter. "Son, I know with whom you've been spending the rest of your time, and we both know this knowledge would not create respectable alibi."

"I will not run, especially for a crime I have not committed."

* * *

Pharaoh Vegeta was in the midst of a tirade. "The old woman was right! My son has betrayed the gods and the kingdom! Once Khety and his henchmen find out about this they will surly side with the Phoenicians, the entire Upper kingdom will fall to Memphis and her allies! Nappa, find that boy. I don't care who you have to kill to find him but bring him to me!"

Yamcha had not yet been dismissed from the royal chamber. His eyes roamed the room trying to hide the amusement he found in Pharaoh's flare-up. Finally, the thorn in his side since his youth was about to be excised. "My lord, do you wish for me to put aside my rest and assist Nappa with the search?" Yamcha was tired and his garrison had been gone for what seemed like an eternity, but it wouldn't hurt to get on an angry Pharaoh's good side.

"No. Your garrison deserves rest. Stay close, you may be needed soon. You may leave me, now."

Yamcha left the throne room and headed to his personal suite to clean the desert from his pores. He had only one destination in mind after that.

* * *

The four stood in silence in the old man's workroom. Vegeta was defiant; he was sacrosanct, of one with the gods. He would rule as a god on Earth. He would not dishonor himself by running away. Vegeta glared at the woman. "How do I know that your lover hasn't framed me?"

"You are my lover, he is my betrothed."

"I am your Lord!"

"You are my prince!" Bulma tossed the scroll she was holding onto the table in frustration. "This is pointless. You must leave Thebes. And this isn't hiding; this is regrouping, evaluating your assets, strategizing. Your father will no doubt believe the evidence before him no matter how slight. He _will_ turn you over to the Phoenicians and they _will_ kill you!

"With Yamcha against you and the rest of the army against you, you need an ally. I have an idea, someone who can be trusted to help."

Bulma paced the room deep in thought. She had to present her idea to the temperamental prince in a way that would not singe his pride. "I have a trusted friend, Goku, you know him as Kakarott."

"That low class son of a scribe!"

"He is strong and loyal, and most of all, he is married to a princess. I'm sure you know, Goku's wife Chichi is the daughter of the Minoan king Vodivasiliá (1), perhaps if we can get to Knossos, the two of you and Goku can somehow figure a way to prove your innocence."

"How are we going to get past Memphis and through the delta without Khety's army intercepting us?" Vegeta countered.

"I don't know yet! Right now we have to find a place to keep you safe until I can contact Goku."

"Perhaps I can persuade one of the Nubians, who I have contacts with, to allow the prince to stay with them for a short time. They are only as loyal to Pharaoh as it serves them," Piccolo offered.

* * *

The cool evening breeze blew in from the Nile and carried with it the rich sulfuric scent of the marsh. Bulma had just returned to her room from meeting with her friend Goku. She would take Vegeta to see him in the morning. They were old friends, Goku and Vegeta; the two boys grew up together, trained together, but were destined for other paths in life. They had grown apart like childhood friends are prone to do, she hoped the trust they once shared still existed, even with the slightest glimmer.

Her introspection stilled as Bulma felt a presence in her room. She was being watched. Abruptly, a pair of arms enveloped her from behind and someone buried their head in the crook of her neck. She gathered her senses; a tall man, thinner arms, narrower build, this wasn't her prince.

"Yamcha!" Bulma turned, having figured out her assailant. "I heard you had returned, you must be tired!"

"Who else would be in your room this time of night? Did you miss me?"

"Sneaking up on a girl like that. What if I had a weapon? You know I have been practicing Tahtib! I've become dangerous with my staff."

"Oh Bulma I missed you so. I have exiting news! You must not speak a word of this, we both could be killed. I've made a deal with several of the more influential princes in the lower kingdom. They will give us sanctuary from Vegeta and his military in exchange for my information and assistance.

"Things are volatile here in Thebes; there will be a more stable life for us in Memphis. Khety is planning an uprising against Thebes. He plans to reunite the kingdoms."

Bulma backed up three paces, bewildered. What was he saying, where did this come from? What of her future, her father, her work? "What of my father, I can't leave him? And what do you mean _we'll_ be killed?"

"He'll be fine. Vegeta needs him, he's too valuable. Besides, your father won't be punished for you leaving. I even convinced an architect in Saqqara to consider taking you on as an apprentice, do you know how hard that was, you being a woman and all?"

"I'm flattered."

"Look Bulma, I'm not a complete fool. I know that you have been cavorting with the prince, and we both know that there's no future in that for you. Which would you prefer, stay here as nothing more than a concubine, or come with me and have some measure of respect and responsibility?"

Bulma's silence encouraged him. "I know it's a lot to digest right now, and it may be hard for you to leave your father, but please consider it. I have made arrangements for a boat to be ready at the docks of Rahotep the boat builder to leave, just after nightfall tomorrow. The princes that I have made arrangements with have assured me that they have Khety's ear and we will have safe passage through Lower kingdom waters.

"Please Bulma, I have made too many deals with too many devils so that we may be secure in Memphis".

Realization hit Bulma like a stone slab, and with it a plan formed. "I will go with you Yamcha. There are things that I need to take care of before we leave though. I will meet you at Rahotep's tomorrow at dusk."

"You're not asking me to leave yet are you Bulma? It's been a long campaign in the desert, and I've missed you so much." He wrapped his arms around her waist. Those arms that she loved to feel around her now felt cold and limp. She knew what he expected; she had to make Yamcha happy for now. As he laid her upon her bed, her mind filled with images of a beautiful prince. If this was the price that she had to pay for their freedom, then so be it.

What the two unequal lovers didn't see was their voyeur slipping from the balcony to the sand below. There was little interest in their lovemaking. All the information that was needed had been gathered.

* * *

Bulma woke with first light. She had a busy day ahead. Yamcha had left her bed sometime in the night. She was eager to begin her day and forget the night's events. She dressed and gathered the necessities for a long trip. Bulma didn't know where Piccolo had taken Vegeta, but they were going to meet later at Goku's.

Goku's home was small, but the stone construction conveyed his higher status than the mud brick of a simple commoner. He had met Chichi during a campaign in the north where her father had been meeting with other nobles. The eccentric old man considered it an honor for his daughter to be wed to an Egyptian hero. Goku had the resources to buy a small staff of house slaves, but his wife wouldn't allow it. Chichi was a warrior and a princess. She kept her home immaculate, practiced her ancient Cretan martial arts, and ruled her tiny stone nation with a bronzed fist.

Vegeta and Piccolo stood outside the small stone home. The prince was ill at ease with everything that was happening. He was a man of action, not one to hide and rely on foreigners. He had little sleep last night. Piccolo may have trusted the Nubians, but that trust wasn't shared. He was also apprehensive of this alliance the woman was suggesting. While he was close to Kakarott as a child, their stations in life separated them. He knew of Kakarott's glories in the field. He would never vocalize his admiration, but he had been keeping tabs on the care-free soldier all this time. In a different life he may have been proud to call him friend.

"We might as well get on with this," he said to Piccolo. Vegeta knocked at the door to the small house. A small portly servant responded.

"I am here to see your master."

The little round servant led the two princes into the great room. Bulma was already there.

"Chichi, Vegeta and Piccolo are here," he announced unceremoniously.

"Oolong, show more respect." Chichi admonished as she rushed toward her guests. "Oh your highness", she gushed. "Welcome to my home. It is such an honor to welcome you into my home."

The anxious princess stopped abruptly, and stared at her guest's feet. "But I must insist that you both remove your sandals. Do you know how hard it is to keep tile clean in this desert?"

Vegeta cringed; this was going to be a painful day.

'Kakarott," Vegeta acknowledged. At some point, he didn't realize when, Bulma had placed herself at his side. She gave off nervous energy, as if she was remorseful. He didn't like feeling this kind of negativity from his woman, it made him even more hostile than he had already been.

"Hey Vege-a-Prince Vegeta. How have you been? It's been a while. Have you met my wif-?"

"Enough with the idiocy, let's get on with this."

"Right, then." Bulma took control of the conversation. "So I've explained the situation to Chichi and Goku. Chichi is going to present you to her father, she's sure that he will give you sanctuary in Konossos."

Bulma took a deep fortifying breath. "The perfect opportunity has presented itself. Yamcha has decided to desert to Memphis. He wants to sneak away at dusk. There is a boat waiting for us at the dock of Rahotep the boat builder .Yamcha thinks that I will go with him."

Vegeta shot her a look. "Why does he think that?"

"Well, I told him I'd leave Thebes with him" she admitted sheepishly. "But wait… this will satisfy the problem of safe passage through the delta. Khety's people will assume that it's Yamcha's boat traveling through their waters."

Vegeta balked. "This subterfuge bothers me. Your plan would have us sneak out in the night, take a pilfered boat down the Nile, slip past Memphis disguised as a traitor to my father, sail to Crete, and hide as a guest of a foreign king. This holds no honor."

"Vegeta, this is temporary," Piccolo assured. "The problem that I see is keeping Yamcha from the docks so that you may escape in his place. I will stay here. I can stall Yamcha long enough for the three of you to get to the docks and escape."

'Four." Bulma declared defiantly.

"No, you are not coming."

"This is my plan; I'm not staying behind to deal with Yamcha or your father. Besides, you need me, I'm the genius here."

"Fine, Kakarott, the woman and I will meet you back here just before dusk."

Vegeta studied his tall friend. "We may never see each other again, _brother._ May the gods grant you all of the honor and glory you deserve." The two princes looked earnestly at one another and embraced forearms in a final goodbye. Piccolo turned and left the small dwelling to complete the task at hand.

Goku watched the tall prince leave. He turned to Vegeta, and mindlessly scratched the back of his head, "I know that things between us won't ever be what they were when we were kids. We'll never have the freedom to run through the stables hiding from the harrier. Remember when we had him thinking the horse was talking? Anyway, I hope that you know I'll do anything to serve you. I'm proud to have called you my friend once. I hope I can do that still."

* * *

Old Briefs the Elder was leaning over his worktable reevaluating proper stone placements when Bulma walked in the room. She didn't know quite how to say goodbye to her adored father.

"Daddy, are you busy?"

"Never too busy for my princess." He noticed her worry, "What is it Bulma?"

"I'll be leaving Daddy, I'm-"

"Stop, you shouldn't give me any more information. I think that I know exactly what you are going to do, and the fewer details I know, the safer my life will be." The old man breathed a weary sigh, suddenly feeling his age. "I have tried to teach you more than mathematics; I have endeavored to teach you about life. I have to trust your judgments. Are you absolutely certain of this Bulma?"

"Yes Daddy. never more certain, but if you need me to stay, I will. If you think that your life or your work will be in danger because of, this, I won't-"

"No my dear, there are things more important than an old man's heart. I will miss you but I know that you will be well cared for." He kissed her on her nose, an affection he hadn't shown her since she was a girl. "I will always love you, and I am proud of you. Besides, I don't feel you will be gone long, that boy has ambition". He smiled at his precious little girl, "Good night princess, I will see you again, soon."

The old man went to speak with his foreman, leaving Bulma alone with her thoughts. She ran her hand over the papyrus plans her father left on the table, already missing his presence.

"You aren't having doubts already, are you?"

Vegeta's voice always lifted Bulma's heart. She turned to look at him. He leaned against the wall resplendent in nothing but his linen kilt. "I have neither doubts nor regrets." She smiled.

"We may be gone long, perhaps years. Are you quite certain of this?" He tried to gauge her reaction carefully. Vegeta wanted her with him, but seeing her now, here, he feared in time she would resent him for taking her away.

Bulma's heart sank. "Do you not want me to go?"

He pushed off the wall and walked toward Bulma. She met Vegeta halfway across the room, and laid her hands on his strong chest. He slid his right arm around her waist and his left hand touched her soft cheek.

"Wom…Bulma, I want you with me, but I don't want you to regret leaving. If you wish to stay, I will not argue." In truth he needed her, and he feared she would stay behind. She was his strength. He was afraid he could never really tell her, or even truly show her how much he need to have her with him.

She kissed him deeply. "I have no regrets, and my decisions are mine. You have given me unprecedented freedom to make those decisions, and I make them with clarity. My place will always be with you, by _my_ choice."

* * *

Piccolo entered the galley of the garrison barrack. The time of the afternoon meal was close, as infantrymen began to file in. Piccolo called to three men that he knew to be under Yamcha's command, "You three, where is your General? He isn't in his personal chambers."

The tallest of the three nervously looked up to the tall prince. "Uh well, he…uh was called to Pharaoh's throne room, sir."

It appeared that Pharaoh had taken care of Piccolo's job for him.

* * *

It was late afternoon, and Yamcha was rushing to Pharaoh's throne room. This was the last place that he needed to be. Bulma would be expecting him by dusk. The two mountainous guards that stood at the room's doors opened them for the general without announcing him. Yamcha thought this was odd, but figured that Pharaoh was expecting him.

Pharaoh Vegeta I sat high in the center of the room, high priests flanking him on either side. Yamcha bowed on one knee before his ruler.

"You called for me your eminence?"

"I didn't interrupt anything important, did I?"

Yamcha shifted uncomfortably. He had not been given permission to rise. Pharaoh did not leave someone in this position unless the poor soul was being made to suffer.

"It has come to my knowledge that you have been making deals with my enemy. Oh please be a man and don't try to deny your sins. Whether you have framed my son or not is of no interest to me. Publicly you have given me a reason to dispose of him. He's grown dangerous; you have confirmed the suspicions that I have had for some time.

"You will not meet your woman this evening; nor will you be joining armies of Khety's kingdom. No, you will remain here; there are certain tasks that you will be required to complete from now on that I don't wish to lead back to me. You will only keep your life because you are now of use to me. Your woman of course will die. I'm sure you will find another."

Yamcha's life was no longer his own. He knew that there were risks in making the plans he was making, but the rewards would have been so great. He bowed even lower to his god-king in submission. 'My soul is yours, your worship."

Pharaoh smirked. "Indeed it is boy."

The shadowy figure that had been watching from the corner of the throne room slipped through an entryway that led to one of the many unused hallways of the palace, unseen; their work was done.

* * *

Evening crept across the Nile. The frogs had just begun their nightly concert from the marshes as the ibis' fished for their last meal of the day. The dock master's apprentice was beginning to light the sentinel torches. He had an uneasy feeling. The royal guard had arrived earlier in the evening, and there were only maybe fifteen soldiers. He recognized them, they were elite.

This particular boat yard sat on a wide beach nestled between two marshes. The buffer of vegetation acted as a safety net from the animals and weather that was harmful to a boat maker's health. Four soldiers stood watch on the docking piers near the boat the apprentice had just readied, two others stood atop the stone blocks that attached the piers to land, five soldiers waited in the builder's courtyard hidden from plain view, and three more patrolled the beach. The one remaining soldier stayed in his master's office; that man the apprentice knew well, Nappa, grand leader of the Royal guard. The apprentice never claimed to be gifted with premonitions, but tonight, he predicted someone was going to die. After he lit the final torch, he planned to find an unfinished hull to hide under. He would remain among the living.

This beach was one of few places within the marsh not covered in reeds and marsh grasses. The mud and sediment would swallow anyone trying to access it from either side. Vegeta noticed how the soldiers patrolled. They were waiting for someone. The anticipation of battle charged him; he had not felt this in a while. The soldiers were at the disadvantage, they were boxed in by marsh on two sides and river on the other. He and Goku decided the best way to take the dock was to rush head on.

"You two stay here. Only after we signal are you to leave the shelter of the rocks" the prince ordered. Bulma laid her hand on her prince's cheek in silent encouragement.

The sun had sunk low enough to cast the beach in darkness. The two warriors were able to creep as close as the torchlight cast its glow. Vegeta saw a soldier behind a retaining wall by the dock and another walking toward them on the beach. He motioned for Goku to take the beach soldier while he handled the stationary one.

Suddenly a shout rang out from the stillness. "We have your women, lay down your weapons!"

Vegeta looked toward the halo of light and watched helplessly as Bulma and Chichi were drug into the lit clearing. "Surrender your highness." He recognized Nappa's voice from somewhere above them on the dock. His father sent the best-he'd be sure not to disappoint.

Adrenalin, panic and fear began to overtake Bulma. She fought to control herself by using her greatest asset, her mind. She calmed herself and scanned her surroundings, noting the waste products of discarded boats. There, about ten paces from her was a short piece of mast pole. If she could only get a distraction. Chichi, as if sensing Bulma's thoughts, channeled her warrior training and lashed out at the unsuspecting soldier. He made the mistake of holding her like a helpless woman, with only one hand. She grabbed his offending arm and spun toward him causing him to release his hold, and then she kneed him in the groin to double him in pain. Bulma took the distraction and lunged for the mast pole. She swung the pole in a pattern across her body with speed and grace, stunning her soldier. Swiftly, she swung the pole around and contacted his collar bone breaking it, then swung the opposite way cracking against the side of his head and knocking him unconscious. While her attacker was doubled in pain, Chichi rotated behind him with fluid speed. His head between her hands, she twisted and felt his neck snap as he fell limp. She grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows from his back, and the two women ran for the pier.

Goku and Vegeta took the distraction provided by their women to dispose of their targets. Vegeta then grabbed the dead soldiers spear and launched it in the direction of the five approaching soldiers from the courtyard. As Goku's man fell to the sand he turned to see Vegeta's spear hit its mark as the first of five soldiers fell. Both warriors picked up discarded bronze swords and ran headlong to the four remaining soldiers.

Chichi and Bulma rounded the corner of the boat yard and ran toward the pier. A spear landed three paces in front of them. The women looked up to see a soldier atop the first stone block. Chichi drew the bow and shot true and straight, the soldier fell into the river. Infuriated, the second soldier took aim at them with his spear. He was too fast for Chichi to aim a second arrow. Unexpectedly, the soldier grabbed his right side where a spear had impacted. The women turned to see a battle bloodied Vegeta. "Run toward the boat, we'll cover you!"

Bulma ran to the main pier. She could see the boat, which Yamcha had ordered for their escape to Memphis, had been readied. She also took note of the frightened oar salves huddled in the small aft cabin. The main pier split into two smaller piers on either side of the boat. Four soldiers advanced upon the women, two from each pier. Chichi grabbed Bulma and ran toward the left docking pier; planning to take the piers one at a time. Chichi drew her bow and shot the first soldier, as he dropped, Chichi saw his stunned companion behind him. Goku had broken free of the soldiers from the courtyard. He saw his wife about to be charged by the two soldiers from the right docking pier, and took action. He dealt a death blow to the first man with his sword to the abdomen, and then grabbed the second soldier from behind breaking his neck. He picked up the first weapon available, a spear, and launched it across the bow of the docked boat into the chest of the soldier on the other pier.

Vegeta headed in the direction that he saw Goku run. As he passed the boat builders' office, a massive figure caught the corner of his eye. He stopped, turned and faced the man who taught him most of what he knew about fighting. He had beaten Nappa, finally after years of defeats, but the stakes were never this high. To this point, their confrontations had not progressed beyond sparring. Whatever Nappa's orders were, Vegeta knew that this fight could only end in death. To ensure the safety of those that depended upon him, it could only end in Nappa's death.

"I cannot allow you to board that boat your highness."

"It would be an insult to both of us if I didn't welcome your challenge, Nappa."

He had no sword or spear; he didn't even have an ax. Vegeta looked to his right side; all that was left was his dagger. He would have to save that for the kill shot.

Nappa had a height advantage of maybe two hands on Vegeta. He moved in close to Nappa so the huge man's reach would not be to his advantage. Hands slightly raised, Vegeta circled his adversary. Nappa swung with his right, but Vegeta's speed and height allowed him to dodge the punch. He spun and landed a blow to Nappa's midsection but it did little to stop the big man. Nappa recovered quickly, and landed a right to the prince's jaw, and followed promptly with a left knee to the diaphragm. Vegeta dropped to the pier with a thud the air knocked from his lungs.

The prince struggled to his feet, and assumed a shaky defensive stance. It had become apparent that Nappa had been taking their training easy all these years. He was too quick to give up on his only weapon. Pulling his dagger with his left hand, he used his right to give him the leverage to push off the ground, and lunged toward Nappa. The big man grabbed his wrist, twisted the dagger free and threw Vegeta into the stone wall. Nappa's orders were to bring the prince alive. He would have to watch how hard he threw the boy.

Vegeta rose and gave his surroundings a quick evaluation. There was nothing in his immediate vicinity to use as a weapon. He had only himself. He advanced a few paces toward Nappa then crouched low in a defensive stance. Nappa readied himself through various poses and forms that were intended to intimidate the younger prince.

"It's difficult to have rehearsed routines to fit in with our own broken rhythm; they lack the flexibility to adapt (2)." Vegeta hoped his insult would distract Nappa long enough to make his final attack.

The boy's hubris always annoyed him, so self-righteous. Nappa attacked first, and leaned low to grapple with Vegeta; he grabbed the prince's thigh with his left hand leaving his right free to deliver a head shot. Vegeta took quick advantage; He grabbed the big man's free arm pulling it toward his body while he wedged his right forearm down on the back of the man's neck pushing them both to the ground. The momentum and pressure crushed the vertebrae in Nappa's neck, killing him. The giant flopped to the pier then gravity rolled him into the Nile below. Vegeta turned over onto his knees in an attempt to stand, but that was as far as he got.

Bulma ran from the docking pier toward Vegeta.

"Woman! I'm fine, go find the boat master so we can get the hell out of here!"

Goku knelt down next to his prince. "How ya doin' buddy?" he smiled.

"Shut up, Kakarott, and help me to the boat!"

* * *

Goku and Chichi sat huddled together at the bow of the boat. The moonlight shone the way for the boat master to navigate the Nile. The winds were low, so the oarsmen slaves beat a soft rhythm with their oars, gliding the ship through the water. Goku felt pride for his wife and his prince. Justice would come to the kingdom when Vegeta II was in power.

He glanced toward the stern, to the small enclosed room where he knew his prince was recovering. Goku wasn't sure how long they would be exiled from Egypt, but when they returned, he was certain that a new world order would be close behind.

In the small aft cabin, Bulma finished cleaning her prince's visible wounds. As he lain on the divan she sat back and attempted to evaluate his appearance. She was too distracted by his raw nude perfection to truly assess the damage. "You really are a god, truly immortal," she admired as she brushed a bruise forming on his thigh.

He winced. "Do gods feel pain?"

"You need rest. Chichi knows of a healer not far down river. Her hut is on the shore near Nabut, by morning we'll be able to pick up herbs and supplies there. She won't ask questions"

He sat up with a burst, and gripped her arm. "I don't need herbs, woman, you are my power, my strength. You are all I need."

Vegeta kissed his woman deeply. Her hands ran through his hair, probably the only thing on him that hadn't been injured. Bulma felt his hands float under her light linen tunic and she shifted to allow him to lift it over her head. Breaking his kiss to remove the only barrier between them, Vegeta sat back slightly to appreciate his goddess.

"So perfect," he whispered, and gingerly shifted their positions on the divan. Bulma lay beneath her own true god-king, as he worshiped _her_ with his lips, teeth, tongue. Her breath quickened and she moaned ever so slightly, as they were only separated from the outside world by curtains of tanned leather.

Bulma was more than ready to accept him when he entered. His pace was slow, slower and more deliberate than usual. They had shared rough couplings, but this occasion called for slow and deep. Vegeta's body was chipped but not broken. He needed her tonight; now, he couldn't wait to be completely healed.

He thrust into her as hard as his body would allow, and she met his thrusts with her own, making up for the stamina that his recent battle had drained from him. They were lost in each other, no longer caring about the outside world. Their breath the same, heartbeats the same, they moved together, each bringing out the passion in the other. They rode out their climaxes on waves as true as those that lapped at the boat hull.

When her breathing quieted, Bulma sighed, "We are mates and lovers _now_, but what will happen when we return to Thebes?"

"I shall turn over the true guilty party to the Phoenicians, rejoice in his execution, declare war on Memphis, and reunite the two kingdoms of Egypt under my rule as destined by Ra," he pulled her close and whispered powerfully into her ear. "I am the God-King of all Egypt." She tingled at the sensuality of his voice.

"Sometime between now and then, my Father may find himself no longer among the world of the living." He rolled onto his back and gathered his woman onto his sturdy chest. "And I will rule with my brilliant goddess-queen by my side."

"But I am just…" her words were cut off by his lips on hers as he stole her arguments with his kiss.

"You are _my_ goddess and no one will _dare_ argue with me, ever, well, except perhaps my goddess." He smiled the first genuine smile she had ever seen from him and he showered his goddess with more kisses as the boat drifted upon the currents toward the delta, and the beginning of their next quest.

* * *

Yamcha had lost. His beloved Bulma had left him. He knew that she was too good for him, but to see it now as a reality pulled at his soul more painfully than he thought possible. To assuage his broken heart he sought solace in Bulma's old quarters. Wrapped among her things, her smell, he felt some measure of relief.

He sat in darkness folded in her little world, the only light came from the moon casting a dim glow from the balcony. A glimpse of a shadow brought Yamcha from his revere as he watched a form move into his sanctuary. Knowing a torch holder hung above his head, the soldier stood quietly and touched his flint stones to the end, illuminating the room enough to call out the intruder.

"You! What businesses have you here?"

"Idiot soldiers, you really haven't put the pieces together?" The man slowly circled the room, making Yamcha turn circles with him. "Vegeta would have figured this out by now, and has quite possibly done so already. I suppose that's another reason you could not best him."

A flash of epiphany took Yamcha as the pieces fell into place. "_You_ orchestrated this, the murder, framing the Prince, even making it look like I was the one who framed him. I'm so stupid; I played the jealous lover perfectly."

"You have a talent. Tell me, how are you at death scenes?" The intruder pulled a concealed blade and plunged it into Yamcha's belly ensuring a slow painful death. If he played it the way he calculated, the cut was made to look self inflicted. The sad lover taking his life in his beloved's chambers.

"Why?" Yamcha croaked out.

"My mission has always been to cause disruption to the Pharaoh's court, to weaken the Upper kingdom. You people make it too easy." The man then slipped out as quietly as he entered.

The searing pain in his abdomen clouded his thoughts, but Yamcha was the soldier of a god-king and his death would be with honor. He pulled himself across the floor to where he remembered Bulma keeping papyrus and writing carbons. With the last of his dying energy he scrawled five symbols on the floor. The symbols read "Piccolo Prince of Ethiopia."

END

* * *

**1**. Vodi Vasiliá : Greek for _Ox King_ (according to Google translation anyway; if you speak Greek my apologies for any discrepancy!)

**2**. Bruce Lee; _Game of Death_ 1973**.**

**It pains me to make Piccolo the bad guy, he really is my "happy place", but it fit so well with the story. –hope y'all enjoyed!**


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